


mildly unclean harry

by redanick



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crack, Fix-It, Gun Violence, Work Up For Adoption, im getting rid of my old drafts that i wont ever turn into a real fic, so feel free to take this concept and run with it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:07:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26455378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redanick/pseuds/redanick
Summary: An AU where everything is the same except Harry Potter has a gun.
Comments: 16
Kudos: 171





	mildly unclean harry

**Author's Note:**

> god my american really came out in this one huh

Many studies have been performed on the effect that abuse and/or neglect have on a child's accidental magic. Not by the English, of course-- their entire magical society has about the same capacity for logic as a wet sock. Nevertheless, there is no conclusive statement to be made about a disadvantaged child's accidental magic other than that it tends to manifest in more unusual ways. For some, this means a beloved household pet spontaneously growing eight feet tall and protecting the child. For others, this means becoming invisible. For one young Mr. Harry Potter, this meant a gun.

* * *

"Back in your cupboard," Mr. Dursley commands, "and no dinner for a week!"  
Harry withdraws a pistol from his belt. "I want Chinese takeout tonight," he says.  
Mr. Dursley eyes the gun nervously, blustering to cover it up. "Now you listen here, boy, there'll be none of that nonsense in this house! I take you in, feed you and clothe you out of the kindness of my heart, and this is the thanks I get, you ungrateful whelp?"  
Harry fires a warning shot over his uncle's shoulder. "Don't forget to pick up some egg rolls," he says. A picture frame next to the bullet hole in the wall falls with a loud crash.  
Vernon is silent for a few moments. "Petunia," he calls to his wife upstairs, never taking his eyes off Harry, "I'm getting Chinese takeout! I'll be back shortly."  
Harry smiles.

* * *

"I don't want to sleep in the cupboard anymore," Harry decides. "Aunt Petunia, you have twenty minutes to move all your things out of the master bedroom."  
"Wh-- that's outrageous!" she cries. "What's gotten into you?"  
Harry points his gun at her. "Nineteen," he says, smiling. "Chop chop."

* * *

"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, huh?" he says to the giant man. Once, the Dursley family might have dug their heels in and refused to let Harry have anything to do with magic. These Dursleys, having been terrorized by Harry for so long, jump at the chance to send him off to boarding school.  
"Yes!" Ms. Dursley exclaims. "You have magic. Your parents had magic. We never told you because, erm..."  
Mr. Dursley cuts in. "We were worried that such a young man as yourself would have trouble keeping a secret! But you're obviously mature enough now."  
Harry smiles up at Hagrid. "Yes, I think I'll like Hogwarts very much."

* * *

"You are a perfect fit for Slytherin..." the hat whispers in Harry's ear.  
"No thank you," he replies in his mind.  
"You could be great," the hat insists. Harry thinks about pumping the hat full of lead. The hat whimpers.  
"W-well, using a firearm is a very brave thing to do, isn't it? Let's put you in GRYFFINDOR! May God have mercy on their souls..."  
Harry stands up to tumultuous applause, replacing the scared hat on the stool and sitting down to have dinner with his new friends.

* * *

The troll's eyes cross and it falls backward. It's dead before it hits the floor, with a smoking hole in the center of its forehead. Hermione trembles.  
"Is that a _firearm?_" she demands tearily. "How did-- well, you saved my life with it, so I suppose it doesn't matter."  
Ron looks shaken. "What sort of wizard are you, to cast a wordless spell that kills in one hit?"  
"I-it's a muggle thing," Hermione speaks up, then winces when she remembers that she was crying in the restroom because nobody likes a know-it-all. Thankfully, Ron does not make fun of her. He seems too afraid.  
"Malfoy's even stupider than I thought. Muggles can be bloody scary." He peers at Hermione. "You said your parents are muggles?"  
She nods quickly, desperate for friendship or at the very least a conversation with someone who doesn't hate her. "Yes, my Daddy has a gun as well."  
"Did I ever mention I was sorry for bullying you?" he says.  
Harry is happy. He has found a friend in Hermione, who has realized the Power Of The Gun.

* * *

Dumbledore returns from the Ministry of Magic to find his staff in an uproar over the third floor corridor. Fluffy is a steaming corpse which he must levitate off of the trapdoor to the lower level of the protections on the Philosopher's Stone. Keys flutter around his head, yet he is able to get through to the next challenge by virtue of the giant hole in the door. Minerva's poor chess pieces have suffered a similar fate. In fact, the only task that seems not to have been met with extreme violence is Severus's challenge. None of the potion bottles have been touched, but there is water pooling on the floor in a manner indicative of an Aguamenti charm-- or perhaps, upon further investigation, Fluffy's water dish.

In the last room, nothing is damaged save the fresh corpse of Quirinius Quirrel. Harry smiles placidly.

"Hullo, Professor," Harry greets.

Dumbledore sighs. "Care to explain, my boy?"

Harry toes the body gently, turning it over. On the back of Quirinius's head is the permanent sneer of one ex-Dark Lord.

_"So much for the power of love,"_ Dumbledore mutters to himself.

"What was that, Professor?"

"Oh, nothing."


End file.
